Challenged
by Redrangerpower
Summary: It started with a challenge. One, simple challenge from dwarven berserker to human mage, made during a particularly slow night on the open road.


It started with a challenge.

"I bet I could drink you right under the sodding table. Hell, probably right into the stone _under_ the table."

One, simple challenge from dwarven berserker to human mage, made during a particularly slow night on the open road.

Jaycen Amell had quirked a russet eyebrow at Oghren. The dwarf merely smiled at him, like a child who successfully trapped their rival in a dare that would no doubt equate to great amounts of merriment at the rival's expense. Jaycen vividly recalled the last time Oghren had made such a challenge.

Admittedly, the last time the dwarf had made it to _himself_. And the competition had been vicious, with a great deal of accusations about cheating. Even a man who'd personally walked the Fade on several separate occasions had balked at the single man argument. Only more so when Oghren had tried to take physical action against his foe, and ended up face first in the mud, hollering and beating at the ground with closed fists.

Exactly how was the spindly mage to compete with that level of drunken revelry? Jaycen decided to bluff his way into discovering the true motivation for this challenge.

"Ah, why do you bring this up now?" He asked.

Oghren shrugged one meaty and armored shoulder. "You kept asking me 'bout Orzammar. Musta got me a little homesick, even if that is as ridiculous as the sodding darkspawn throwing a baby shower."

The dwarf suddenly glowered at the mage, though there was good humor in his tone. "So stop tryin' to dance your way around this. Not that you'd dance well in that dress you insist on wearing. You drinkin' or aren't you?"

Dress? _Dress? _

"These are the traditional robes of a circle mage!" Jaycen objected with great dignity and not in a fluster. Not a fluster at all.

"Looks damn close to a dress to me. So, you drinking or what, _mi lady?_"

_Mi lady!? _

Jaycen put on his best scowl and sat across from the dwarf. The old tree stumps made for poor seating, but if Oghren was any indication, they wouldn't really be using them for very long. The dwarf grinned from behind his red beard and set two tankards down on the larger oak stump that acted as a table.

"The only game here is drinking. The only rule, you'd better sodding drink. Last one not fighting the ground wins."

"Then who won the last time?" Jaycen asked pointedly.

Oghren shrugged again. "Me of course. Wasn't anybody else in the game."

The dwarf hefted up a large jug from next to the table and yanked out a cork the size of an infant's fist. The strong, boggy scent of dwarven ale suddenly permeated the camp as though they had deliberately pitched their tents next to a river of the stuff. Oghren filled both tankards and set the jug back down with a heavy thud.

"Alright, remember the rule. And no cheatin'."

"How, _exactly_, do I cheat here?"

"Bah! I ain't tellin you. Might do it by accident when you're too drunk ta think right. Takes all the fun outta the game."

Oghren wasted no time in gallantly meeting his foe, and sank the tankard of ale like a ship that had suddenly lost its bottom. Jaycen's scowl remained, and he spitefully took a few long gulps of the stuff. With a hoarse gasp the mage's tankard slammed down onto the table a moment later, emptied and the man in question now cursing how easily he'd been baited.

The dwarf grinned cheekily. "You're slow, but you managed to finish the stuff without it jumpin right back out. Not too sodding bad for a first try, I guess."

"Yeah," Jaycen coughed and spat a dark colored glob of something into the nearby bushes, "it's down for now. Maker's blood, what do you flavor this stuff with?"

"Ah, this and that. Had a jug this one time that I would swear to the ancestors was made with piss. Now _that_ was a challenge to get down."

The mage hiccupped and suddenly looked ill. "Huh."

Oghren reproduced the jug and refilled both tankards in swift order.

"Alright, come on. Let's see if you got any salt in ya."

Jaycen glared balefully at the mug full of foul smelling ale and steeled himself. He'd yet to back down from a challenge, even took pride in the fact that he often found new and exciting ways to come out the victor to the astonishment of all. This dwarf and his villainous comments about his very spiffy robes would not be stood for. No sir.

"Right. Salt. Yeah."

~*~

Leliana awoke to the sound of loud, slurred male voices. They seemed to be engaged in something half-argument half-boisterous song, with nary a word in the whole mess understandable. Blearily, the copper haired bard pushed open the flap of her tent and did a brief scan of the camp.

The fire seemed to be still lit and orderly.

No, that couldn't be the cause of the voices. She'd never known the Maker to have such a sense of humor as to craft a fire that sung so poorly and so insistently.

A quick, if exhausted glance around the rest of the camp reveled everybody seemed to have bedded down for the night. All seemed peaceful, save for the loud voices that for some devil of a reason only awoke Leliana herself.

Then her eyes caught sight of the two appointed watchmen for the evening and she could have sworn all of Thedas was suddenly turned on his head.

Oghren, stood atop the large oak stump that acted as their table, dancing merrily and howling something or other at the top of his lungs into a large jug that needed to be clutched in both hands.

This in and of itself was not unusual. Until the bard's sleep addled mind realized that there was a second, very familiar voice adding itself to the song. The voice that had volunteered to take the watch with the dwarf and had become very dear to her in recent months.

Jaycen Amell, former mage of the Circle and one of the two last Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden, bounced around the table with all the grace of a man falling down a long flight of stairs, shouting words that tried and very much failed to mimic those of the dwarf. Clutched in one hand was a tankard, and the other was vigorously throwing a fist in the air, enthralled with the acoustic nightmare that passed for a song.

Leliana blinked at the scene, at a total loss.

It was at about this time that Alistair decided to finally wake up and take notice of the situation.

_Yawn _"Ok, alright, I give, what is going on out-"

The Templar caught sight of the two man festival and stopped dead, jaw still trying to craft words, like a poet in the midst of a powerful bout of writers block.

A moment passed as two baffled warriors watched their compatriots. The song continued, as loud and abysmal as ever.

"Maker's breath! What is _this_ all about?" Alistair finally managed to shout.

The results were even more disastrous than what Leliana expected.

Both intoxicated warriors spun on the sudden disturbance, eyes wide despite the drink.

"Bloody sodding hell! It's the Templars! Run Jaycen! They'll soddin' kill you for yer sissy dress and staff!"Oghren exclaimed, clearly horrified for his companion's, no _brother'_s safety.

Jaycen stumbled into some sort of escape, but not before throwing an exclamation of "they're robes" over his shoulder. The mage made it all of four hasty and poorly placed steps before slamming right into the oak stump table and half-rolling half-crashing over it, taking jug, tankards and dwarf all of with him. He landed just on the other side of the stump with a loud thud, and giggling groan. Oghren landed next to him, and within a moment, was snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

"Ah. Yes, well, that isn't my fault. No, not at all." Alistair proclaimed somewhat bashfully.

Leliana quickly exited her tent and went over to the two drunken men. They both lay behind the table, Oghren passed out and using one of Jaycen's unwilling shoulders as a pillow, while the mage himself lay on his back, the remains of both jug and ale spread about his robes as he blearily looked at the sky.

The bard couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips, the scene was simply too ridiculous for anything but.

"Jaycen, dear, are you alright?"

The mage's head moved with a wobble so he could focus on her, the fact that he could have simply moved his eyes never factoring into his mind, and he tried his best to smile charmingly.

"Lel! Oh yeah, I'm fine. Ground ish kinda hard though. So's the dwarf. Made me hurt meh arm."

He wiggled the limb that Oghren was using as a pillow pathetically for emphasis and it was all the bard could do to not join them on the ground and laugh until her stomach hurt.

Alistair moved to join Leliana and was suddenly struggling not to laugh at the scene himself.

"Indeed, the ground _is_ hard. Guess they don't teach you that at the Circle. You ought to teach it a lesson. Ya know, after that foul stump that felled you."

Jaycen's smile melted into a grim, battle hardened scowl.

"Yeah! Stupid stump table! Makin' me look silly! I'll get you good latter."

The mage kicked the stump weakly, to drive his threat home to the demon in wooden form.

Leliana sighed in mock suffering and moved over to the downed Warden, wrapping her arms under his.

"Come now, let's get you to bed. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Not likely," Alistair muttered with a grin.

"Bed? Yeah, bed sounds good and, uh, soft. Softer 'n this green stuff out here."

The bard gently helped the incapacitated mage to his feet and directed him to his tent. Alistair watched this with a smile, then casually grabbed an errant pillow, slipped it under the passed out dwarf's head and called it an evening.

Leliana helped Jaycen onto his cot and he slurred something akin to a thank you as she slipped some covers over him.

"How did this start, if you don't mind?" She asked.

"I was, _challenged," _He declared as if it was the grandest thing in all of Thedas.

The bard raised her eyebrows at this.

"It's not a dress, like the little bugger said. They're robes. Masculine, _heroic_, robes. With a nice cut and color."

Leliana smiled and chuckled again. "Indeed, fine and true those robes of yours are. Especially when they're on the right man."

This thought seemed to distress Jaycen greatly.

"Ya, ya mean they've been on _othe_r men?"

* * *

I just finished DA:O recently and I absolutely adored every second of it. This just sort of jumped into my head and I had to put it to paper. Hope you enjoyed, please R&R.


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